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INT. GREG’S LIVING ROOM - EVENING
GREG sits on the couch, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. It’s raining outside, hard. GREG is engrossed in whatever’s on TV. We can’t see it, but we can catch a few words, faint - Tom Wambsgans. Siobhan Roy. Settlements. Served. Divorce.
Light floods the background as a bedroom door opens, quietly. TOM emerges from the room. He freezes in the hallway.
Door squeaks as it drifts shut.
GREG whips around.
GREG
Shit.
GREG scrambles for the remote. He changes the channel.
NEWS ANCHOR #1 (V.O.)
This news comes amidst the already-in-progress Waystar-GoJo merger, expected to finalize within—
GREG
Shit.
GREG changes the channel.
NEWS ANCHOR #2 (V.O.)
It is still unclear why Roy filed—
GREG
Shit. Fuck.
He changes the channel.
NEWS ANCHOR #3 (V.O.)
Sources close to the couple claim that their union was in turmoil prior to—
GREG
Fuck. Um.
He changes the channel.
SOPHIE IWOBI (V.O.)
—just made public that she has filed for divorce from her husband, Minnesotan metrosexual and world-class sugar baby Tomlette Wambsgans—
GREG
Fuck.
He changes the channel.
MARIA OLIVER (V.O.)
I’m Maria Oliver!
MARK OLIVER (V.O.)
I’m Mark Oliver!
MARIA OLIVER (V.O.)
And you’ve reached—
MARIA and MARK (unison) (V.O.)
Renovation Station!
MARIA (V.O.)
Where you’re only one stop away from the home of your dreams—without the hastle of moving!
MARK (V.O.)
Today we’re helping Orange County couple Kevin and Stacy Wellington turn their two-bedroom stucco—
Renovation Station continues in the background, faint and non-intrusively, throughout the entirety of the rest of this scene. Isolated lines, included in this script, are occasionally heard with more clarity, but only by viewers who are paying close attention.
GREG drops the remote with an air of finality.
Long beat of silence.
TOM
When did—
GREG
It’s been. Thirty minutes, maybe, off-and-on coverage. Twitter first. She um, tweeted some—yeah.
TOM
Oh.
GREG
I thought maybe you turned in early.
TOM
Tried to.
GREG
I didn’t want to—I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to—
TOM
It’s okay.
GREG
Sorry.
TOM
It’s fine.
GREG
Should I—
TOM
I’m hungry.
TOM starts walking with a jolt, as though he has just remembered why he left the room. He enters the kitchen and starts opening and closing cabinet drawers.
GREG
There’s, um. There’s leftover linguine in the—
TOM slams the fridge door.
GREG (CONT’D)
Or. Honey Pops. In the…
TOM yanks a box of Honey Pops out of a cabinet, along with a bowl.
GREG (CONT’D)
Yeah.
GREG turns his attention to the television.
MARIA (V.O.)
Woo! Work to be done in this kitchen.
MARK (V.O.)
I’d say this whole wall needs to come down—
TOM continues to prepare his bowl of cereal. Loudly. GREG cringes at particularly loud bangs.
A few seconds later, and TOM’s footsteps slowly approach the couch. GREG very pointedly continues to stare at the television. He is suddenly Renovation Station’s biggest fan.
MARK (V.O.)
The vibe I’d say we’re going for is glam farmhouse.
MARIA (V.O.)
Chicken coop chic.
TOM sits down next to GREG, expression blank. He eats his Honey Pops. GREG glances at him, then back at the TV.
MARIA (V.O.)
Now, Stacy, you know what I’m about to ask you—
GREG (suddenly)
Did you know she was going public?
TOM chews.
TOM
No.
GREG
Oh.
TOM
‘s supposed to be in a month or two.
GREG
Oh. Oh, okay.
TOM
After the deal settled down. I didn’t get it in writing or anything, though. Just her word.
MARIA (V.O.)
Lovely exposed brick under here—
GREG
At least it’s—positive coverage on ATN. For you, I mean. They’re making her look like—pardon my, my Canadian French—a real b—
TOM
And Pierce?
GREG
Ah. Um. Not so—they mentioned the, er, cruises, in your bio. Some clips of Congress, the—email one, some other ones.
TOM
Hm.
GREG
Could call Logan.
TOM
Logan knows.
GREG
Logan knows?
TOM
Logan knows.
GREG
Are you sure—
TOM
He doesn’t ever not know, Greg. He knows.
GREG
Okay.
Silence. TOM eats his cereal. GREG twiddles his thumbs.
MARK (V.O.)
I think this wall needs to go down, too.
MARIA (V.O.)
If it were up to you, every wall in the building would go down!
GREG (picking up remote)
Should I—do you want me to change it?
TOM
No.
GREG (setting it down)
Okay.
TOM
That greige is hideous. The wicker, too.
GREG
Wh—oh. Yeah. It’s not…not what I would…in my house…nosiree.
TOM
Mm.
Long silence.
MARIA (V.O.)
You know what this bay window reminds me of?
MARK and MARIA (unison) (V.O.)
The Winsor bungalow!
TOM
She kissed me first, you know.
GREG stares straight at the TV.
TOM (CONT’D)
We were—not at a bar, but outside one. Leaving one. She was stumbling drunk. I was, I don’t know, trying to—trying to herd her like a sheepdog back to her apartment, and she was stumbling, all over the sidewalk. She bumped into me, and, and, knocked me into a brick wall. Not hard. Well, kind of hard. She’s got powerful shoulders.
GREG
Oh, yeah, I’ve always admired her—her traps—
TOM
So my head hit the wall of this building. There was blood. Not, like, a lot, but enough. Got all over my shirt. And she was laughing and apologizing and I kept saying it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m okay, and she said let me—and she grabbed me by the sides of my head and she kissed me. Blood got all over her hands. Stained her dress.
TOM shoves a spoonful of Honey Pops in his mouth and chews.
TOM
She got it dry cleaned.
TOM swallows.
TOM
Never cleaned the shirt, myself.
GREG
That’s nice. To have a. Memento. Of the. Occasion.
TOM shrugs.
GREG
That’s nice, isn’t it?
TOM
I don’t know everything, Greg.
MARK (V.O.)
As much as I love the playroom, I think it’d serve the family’s needs better as an at-home office.
GREG
I’m sorry, man.
MARIA (V.O.)
This pink’s gotta go. I’m thinking grey.
MARK (V.O.)
What about beige?
GREG
Like, if you need anyone to talk to. I’m. You know.
MARIA (V.O.)
As much as I love the plants, the upkeep can be a hassle, no?
MARK (V.O.)
I think plastic is the way to go.
GREG
I’m, like. Your roommate, kind of, now, so, like, if there’s anything, just ask.
TOM
You don’t mean that.
GREG
No—no, I do. I don’t like seeing you—you know.
TOM
But you don’t really mean that.
GREG
Tom, I do—
TOM
Okay, fine. Then would you?
GREG
What?
Huge, huge pause. Renovation Station is currently a shopping montage; all we can hear is light, elevator-type background music as Mark and Maria buy plastic plants in wicker baskets.
GREG
Would I…what?
TOM
That’s what I thought. Nevermind.
GREG
Tom, you can’t just—you can’t just say “would you” and expect me to—
TOM
Fine. I’ll be more specific: can I try something?
GREG (uncomfortable laughter)
Tom.
TOM
What?
GREG
You’re doing it again. Can’t you see you’re…? I don’t know—like, try what—
TOM
Something, Greg. Jesus. It’s like pulling teeth with you sometimes. Just answer.
GREG (giving in, annoyed)
You want an answer? Uh. “Can I try something.” I mean, fuck, sure, you can try something. Anyone can try something. That an answer?
TOM
Yes. Thank you. Was that so hard?
TOM sighs and leans forward, settling the bowl of cereal on the coffee table. GREG side-eyes him but mostly tries to keep his attention on the television.
MARIA (V.O.)
This is my favorite part of the whole process.
TOM sighs again. He turns and faces GREG, hands on his knees. GREG faces straight ahead.
MARK (V.O.)
You say that about every part!
MARIA (V.O.)
Then I’ve picked the right line of work!
TOM
I’m gonna.
GREG continues to stare at the TV.
TOM
Fuck. Okay. Just—fuckin’—I’m gonna—
TOM suddenly grabs the sides of GREG’S head, twisting his neck to face him. Quickly, no second thoughts, he presses his mouth to his. Firm. No lip movement, just pressing.
TOM’s eyes are shut tight. GREG’s eyes are wide, wide open.
TOM lets go of GREG’s face. They separate.
GREG slowly, slowly turns his attention back to the television. TOM does the same.
MARIA (V.O.)
Didn’t see that one coming!
MARK (V.O.)
Oh, come on, you know I have an affinity for neo-Scandanavian sectionals.
TOM slowly retrieves his bowl of cereal and continues to eat.
GREG stares ahead, mouth agape. He may not have blinked in the last thirty seconds.
MARIA (V.O.)
Well, then, we’ve got ourselves in quite the pickle. Two beautiful couches, both alike in dignity…
MARK (V.O.)
We’ll have to consult the couple in question - Kevin and Stacy!
GREG
Is this why you saved me?
TOM
What?
GREG
Is it? Is this why?
TOM
What the fuck are you talking about?
GREG
Answer the question, Tom.
TOM
I don’t want to.
GREG
Tom. You can tell me.
TOM
I don’t want to. I don’t want to!
GREG snaps his neck back to focusing on the TV.
MARIA (V.O.)
Now, Stacy, what I’ve selected is a late baroque-esc love seat priced at a mere $2,899. Notice the striking asymmetry of the back and the lovely clawed feet.
MARK (V.O.)
While I’ve chosen a Nordic-style sofa, extra-long and capable of seating not only yourselves, but up to six guests—
TOM, several strange emotions having passed across his face in the last few seconds, suddenly bursts out laughing. He doubles over with it, eventually setting his bowl down to prevent spilling. Wiping tears away, slapping his knee, all that.
GREG glances over.
TOM (through laughter)
You—you shoulda seen the look on your face! Priceless! And that’s saying something, because I can put a price on anything!
GREG
What?
TOM
Bwww-kaw! Bwww-kaw!
GREG
Oh my God.
TOM (ignoring him, laughing raucously):
Your face! Knew you were a chicken but didn’t know you were also a gay chicken.
GREG
Fuck you, Tom. Actually.
TOM (clucking over him)
Cluck, cluck, cluck. Lost so quick it’s embarrassing, holy shit, I’m crying—
GREG
Tom. I’m not stupid.
TOM (speaking over him)
It’s like you don’t even know how to play.
GREG
I’m not a fucking idiot, Tom.
TOM (still speaking over him)
Come on, man, that game’s all high school was for me—guess it makes sense you never woulda been invited—
GREG
I can’t believe you. I can’t believe this.
TOM (ignoring GREG like it’s his full time job)
College, too, it’s like, I knew you were uncool in high school but I would have hoped you’d figure out what to do with those limbs by college—
GREG
Tom, would you just—would you just fucking—
TOM (laughing)
Bwwkaw! Bwwkaw! B—
TOM’s words cut out as GREG seizes forward and smashes their mouths together.
TOM shuts up immediately. GREG presses forward, deepening it. TOM does not reciprocate, not at first. His mouth is slack. GREG’s eyes are shut right. TOM’s are wide, wide open.
MARIA (V.O., playfully angry)
Ooh, I knew you would pick him!
STACY (V.O.)
What can I say? Mark’s choice really speaks to me! I was tempted by Maria’s for a moment, but the heart knows what it wants.
MARK (V.O.)
Victory! Don’t worry, Maria, darling. You’ll get ‘em next time—we still have to pick out the chairs!
TOM whimpers.
TOM’s eyes are still open. We get the sense that he expected GREG to stop kissing him by now. GREG hasn’t. GREG has a hand on TOM’s jaw and another on his chest, holding him close.
TOM shuts his eyes.
A change in the dynamic. TOM is kissing GREG back, meaningfully, with teeth and tears. GREG accepts the challenge for what it is, getting both hands on TOM’s shirt and pulling him in. TOM lets himself be pulled.
MARIA (V.O.)
Well, well, well. I can admit when I’m wrong—it does look lovely. Long, clean, elegant. You just want to sit your tush right on it!
MARK (V.O.)
Just stunning. And it matches the carpet just perfectly.
Maneuvering for dominance. A game: pushing, pulling, and leaning back to see who will follow whose lips. Tugging and sliding hands across backs, stomachs, thighs, to see who shivers, who begs for more.
TOM loses. TOM wasn’t playing to win. GREG gets his hands under TOM’s thighs and tips him over. TOM’s back hits the couch, GREG crowds above him. Their lips never disconnect. TOM whines.
MARIA (V.O.)
Of course, there’s still lots to be done in this room.
MARK (V.O.)
That’s obvious. We’ve got to figure out the plumbing, the carpet and drapery, the closet—
TOM goes for GREG’s belt; he pulls it off swiftly with a swish and wastes no time going for the zipper immediately afterwards. GREG’s breath hitches.
MARIA (V.O.)
I know you’re all excited to see what’s next!
MARK (V.O.)
So stick around after these messages. We’ll be waiting for you here at—
TOM and GREG moan.
MARK (CONT’D) and MARIA (unison)
Renovation Station!
CUT TO BLACK